Do You Remember My Shadow
by Phantom Phoenix Queen
Summary: There is an old saying; "if you love something, let it go." A year after the events of New York, Thor discovers Loki's true wish: to make amends with those he has wronged. But when Thor's greatest nightmare comes true, and Loki falls for a most unlikely man, Thor must choose between getting what he wants or allowing his brother to finally be happy. Thorki/ Thunderfrost and Ironfros
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: There is an old saying; "if you love something, let it go." A year after the events of New York, Thor discovers Loki's true wish: to make amends with those he has wronged. But when Thor's greatest nightmare comes true, and Loki falls for a most unlikely man, Thor must choose between getting what he wants or allowing his brother to finally be happy. Thorki/ Thunderfrost and Ironfrost (Iron ManxLoki)**

**Authors note: Yay for my first multi chapter fic! Updates will be often, I hope. The rest is not written yet, but I have a good idea of where I want the plot to go, so I should be able to write the test rather quickly. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated and enjoy! **

**Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Thor movies, or Marvel. **

_I remember a shadow, living in the shade of your greatness- Loki Laufeyson_

For all the people in the world, in our Nine Realms, there are those left to be forgotten. Those people who, by some cruel fate of the gods, were left to wander life as an empty shell, spending their lifeless days wondering why they were so less than everyone else. These people do not stop at peasants; they infiltrate every blood line from kings and queens, to warriors, to gods, to many more. They creep along their daily life, hidden in the overbearing shade of those who are seen as so much greater than themselves. They spend their hours in silence, knowing that it is no longer worth the agony and despair to attempt to get someone, anyone, to notice them.

Among these people, perhaps the leader of the forgotten, is the God of Mischief. Loki.

The incident with the muzzle, in which Loki had arguably felt at his most pathetic, had inadvertently caused a decline in his speaking habits. The offending item had been left on for the duration of his imprisonment, and therefore it was still a strange sensation to be talking regularly. First falling into the Void, and now this.

Due to the rather strange predicament, Thor, his ever loving 'brother', had taken to giving the younger a quill and paper and allowed him to compose his thoughts and feelings into a small leather book. The mighty Thunder God was akin to a servant around his beloved brother now, as, depending on Loki's request, he would spend hours a day in the youngers room tending to him. Those soulful viridian eyes most often held a silent plea for him to remain in the not-really Odinsons bedrooms until he had finished his daily writing, and then would to proceed to curl up in his older brothers arms for a while. They very rarely talked, but Thor was okay with that. He was content to simply sit with his brother, and was quick to reassure him that Thor would always be there for him. No matter what.

The first day Thor had given Loki the book, his brother had looked up at him with a questioning, almost pleading, gaze. In his beautiful voice he had garbled out the words "what is this for" before he fell silent again. With a kind smile, Thor had replied.

"It is for you to write in, brother. I feel that you need an outlet for your built up emotions, and if you do not wish to speak them, at least relieve yourself by writing."

Loki had nodded then, his gaze still fixed on the square of bound paper in his hands. He flipped it back and forth a few times before settling on opening it up and poising his pen over the first page. His head still bent, he stole a quick glance from the corners of his eyes at Thor, who casually turned his head to the side as if to assure his brother that he was not looking at what was being written, and began to let the ink glide across the page. As Loki's pen scratched across the paper, and Thor studied the Asgardian skyline visible from the open balcony, a sense of calm overtook the room. A calmness that had not appeared for years and that Thor had dearly missed.

The soft thump of leather hitting the bed covers sounded through the room, and Thor looked up expectantly. Sharp green eyes met his own azul ones as his younger brother smiled shyly at him.

"Thank you, brother, for the opportunity you have given me. I truly appreciate your kindness." No matter how unwarranted, his mind could not help adding.  
Thor was not surprised at what came next; mere moments later, his arms were full of green cloth and leather. A head of ink colored hair buried itself against his chest, and the two fell into their daily routine once again. The only sound that filled the room was that of their hushed breathing. Thor pulled his brother closer ever so slightly; it was not surprising that he sometimes still believed this to be a dream. Every so often his mind would drift back to a time not so long ago- when Loki was in prison, trapped in a magic cell below the palace. No matter how hard he tried, the eldest prince could never burn the image of his brother, helpless, broken Loki, from his mind. Never had Thor seen his brother's eyes look so distant and numb as he had in that year; such a look, one that could never be erased, had caused Thor to spend many a sleepless night. It left one lingering question in the back of his mind: would Loki ever tell him what had transpired during that year?

His eyes shifted to the leather bound object sitting just across the bed from him. So far, Loki had been loath to share his experiences out loud; but the diary could supply Thor with the very information he so craved. If only he could get to it without Loki noticing. He carefully glanced down, making as slight a movement as possible. Loki had pressed his chest against Thor's and lay with his head tucked underneath the olders chin. His breathing was warm as it glided over the silver armor, steady and slow in a way that conveyed sleep. As if acting upon its own decision, Thor's hand unconsciously crept out towards the book, eyes all the while glued to Loki's slumbering form. It was only when the leather was firmly in his grasp that he realized what he was doing and in that moment a pang of guilt hit him. Yes, he could read the diary, Loki wasn't awake to say differently; but if the trickster god had truly wanted his brother to know what he had written in there, he would have told him. Thor sighed, stuck between letting the book go and relieving the itch to discover Loki's secrets. Blue eyes bore into the hand crafted leather as though the answer to his dilemma would reveal itself until, finally, he tentatively lifted the cover.

The first thing his eyes came upon was the sentence "I am not a monster." It was carved into the paper in Loki's neat handwriting, and was the only thing to fill up that page. It lay in the middle, as if it had been waiting for something to use up the lines preceding it. Thor turned the page, his heart having already sunk a little farther in his chest. He feared what he would find on the next page but nevertheless made himself read it. This time, the writing filled the majority of the page.

_I suppose, in the Midgardian style I have heard of, it would be most appropriate to begin by saying this has been established as my diary. Thor deems it a useful device to bear my feelings, in order to release the emotions without speaking. I am most grateful. _

_I wish I could say I understood what I had done to those of Midgard. Whether anyone will believe me or not, I truly was not in control of myself. I would tell them, my brother, most likely, but I am loath to having my lips sewn shut again. They will not listen, will they? They will deem me a liar and a trickster once again. I am not lying this time. _

_I do not particularly like those I have wronged. They cost me a great deal of torture and pain, but nevertheless I wish to apologize to them. I do not wish to be a monster in their eyes. I am already a monster to everyone else; a nightmare in the living, and a past heir to the throne no less. I may never be a king, I may never be lived, or never have a friend to call my own. But if I could, I would most appreciate being able to apologize to these Avengers, as they call themselves. _

_I am not a monster. I am loved. If I can apologize, then someone will love me.  
-Loki _

Beside the Loki, Thor could see a very distinctly scribbled out "Odionson". It pained him to think that Loki felt this way; not only of himself- he is not a monster- but that he was so desperate to apologize to those who, Thor had to admit, most likely hated him. With sad eyes, the thunder god slowly detached himself from his adopted brother. He slid the book back onto its rightful spot on the bed, kissed Loki's forehead in a shear moment of brotherly love, and covered the prone figure with a blanket before leaving the room. He knew what he had to do. He would fix this for his brother; he had to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: So even though I have this story mostly entirely planned out, I just came across this amazing FrostIron picture, and I had the best idea. Not going to say what it is, but it is going to make this story so much better! Enjoy and as always, please review. **

**Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or Marvel**

With a particular numbness, Loki thought about just how similar his current situation was to falling into the Void. It was the same sensation, a never ending falling in which your body and soul felt detached, and the wind whipped and pulled at you as if urging you along. This time however, a spiral of rainbow colors shot past him. He stared numbly at the buildings that were slowly growing larger and more vivid around him, as though he was looking through them instead of at them. It was only when he landed on hard, hot concrete with a violent thud that he began to realize where he was.

Sleep had not come for him in days. Tony Stark- the man who had saved New York City, the man of iron- paced around his lab restlessly. Shrapnel of his latest creation lay scattered haphazardly around the room from where it had malfunctioned, exploded, and landed all in a matter of seconds. Another month of long days and sleepless nights down the drain. He sighed into his hands, letting out a huff of frustration as he plopped himself down on a stool. The blueprints of the now destroyed model lay before him on a halographic screen, and Jarvis, the ever intelligent non-human butler asked politely if Tony Stark would "like for me to close the blueprints, sir?" Tony nodded, hands still covering his face as Jarvis whisked the screen away in favor of dull music to ease his masters mind.

"Goddamn, Jarvis. It's not like someone died. Put something a little more upbeat on, will you?"

The response from the AI was immediate, and before Tony could blink rock music filled the overly industrial space.

"Much better. Now I can actually think again."

"Of course, sir." The fondly sarcastic electronic voice filled the room, and for once Tony was too tired to make a snide remark about wishing he hadn't given the AI emotions. By the second song, he had laid his head on his arms and was halfheartedly singing along to Greenday's "American Idiot"- so maybe he had added that to his playlist to spite Steve, but who was checking?- while his eyes slowly slid shut. He was almost entirely asleep, slipping off into a wonderful dream land of perfectly functioning suits, when Jarvis's one again monotone voice filled his ears.

"Sir, it appears there is someone walking in through the top floor's doors. Shall I alert the authorities?"

Tony swore. Standing up,- in such a fast manner that the stool he'd been using as a makeshift bed skidded across the floor with a squeal- he began shouting hurried orders at Jarvis while shoving himself into the nearest available suit.  
"No, no. Let me handle this. Lock the doors, keep me updated. If he tries to leave before I get there, you know what to do." Seconds after the suit latched securely onto his body, Tony fired the thrusters and shot through the barely open door.

It had never really registered in Loki's mind that it wasn't acceptable in Midgardian culture to just blatantly walk into someone's house. It had taken him a while to work out that he was, indeed, laying on the roof of a Midgardian tower, and even longer to realize that, _oh my god,_ this was_ Tony Stark's_ tower of all people, and that meant he would have to apologize. He had wanted to, of course, as he felt making more enemies was not something he particularly needed; but as he sat curled into the side of lounging chair he couldn't shake the uncontrollable feeling of pure terror shooting through his body. Turns out it was much easier to say he would like to make amends than actually go out and do said action. Nevertheless, he was the god of mischief, and he would not be bested by fear. He had been fearful his whole life, and besides, Odin had forced him to take ownership of his actions a multitude of times.

'Except sewing my lips together may have been going a little far', the little voice in the back of his head added, always quick to reassure Loki that nothing could really be worse than that. So without hesitation, Loki had stood and made his way to the unlocked door, let himself in and began in earnest to find Stark.

Which lead him to where he was now- pressed up against the wall in between now cracked plaster and a very, very angry man in a metal suit. White eyes shine brightly down into his, and he unconsciously curled farther back into the wall out of instinct. The suit, the anger pouring off the other mans body in tangible waves, forced Loki's mind to shoot unwanted memories back to him. And thus why he dropped to the ground, wrenching himself painfully from Tony's grasp to fall not so gracefully to his knees.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't- I didn't know, I didn't do it myself! They- they were- they controlled me, they had me under a spell and I didn't know. I know it's not a reason and I know you hate me, I hate myself but please. Please forgive me. I can't sleep at night, I can't breathe sometimes, I have panic attacks and I can't handle it anymore. I'm so sorry, for everything. Please forgive me. Just- just, you can do whatever you want. Torture me, hurt me more, kill me, I don't care anymore. Just please forgive me."

What had started out as a loudly sobbed out mantra had turned into a barely audible plea. Loki had whispered the last words so softly Tony was scarcely sure he had heard them. That last sentence, it got to him, and he snapped out of his stupor to glance down at the sobbing mess that was Loki.

"Hey. Hey calm down." At this point, Tony had ripped off the face mask and was kneeling beside the cowering god, "I won't hurt you. Hell, I may not like you but I won't kill you Reindeer Games. Now, tell me what this is all about. That's it, calm down, Rock of Ages."

Loki looked up in poorly hidden surprise. He stuttered out a string of non words before bowing his head. Tony had to lean to catch what was whispered next- once again a silent string of apologies- and the billionaire sighed.

"Look. I'm not sure what you're doing here. But let's just say, for sake of ease, you're forgiven. You tell me what this is about and maybe I won't have you arrested for breaking and entering. Is big brother around here somewhere? He waiting for me to bash you in so he can destroy me?"

Loki shook his head. "No. Thor, he- he sent me here to repent. I apologize. I truly didn't know. New York, I- I wasn't in control." Here, he proceeded to tell Tony in half stuttered English of his mind control experience with the Chitauri, and the man listened patiently until it was over.

There were no words left for Tony's sleep deprived mind to find, so he ran his hand down his face before sighing, a rash decision popping into his head.

"Listen. It's like one in the morning. I'm tired. How about I lead you to a guest room, you stay here and you can explain to me the situation tomorrow. I trust you tonight, you seem ok now. How's it sound?"

Instead of answering, Loki nodded.

"Alright then. Come with me Raindeer Games." He lifted the god to his feet with two metal clad hands, placing one behind his back as he lead his new guest down the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note: This chapter just did not want to be written. At least in the beginning. But anyway, it's up now and thank you to everyone for all the favorites and follows on this story! *hands out cookies and little Loki dolls* Enjoy the third chapter! **

**Review Responses:  
Cristina Reid: I'll try to update as fast as I can! :) I really can't wait to get past the beginning of the story and get to the part I really have planned out (with Thor). **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or Thor **

Strangely, Tony felt considerably at ease. Maybe it was the fact that, for once in about year, there was another living, breathing human being occupying his tower. Pepper had left his life shortly after the happenings in Manhattan, saying something about being tired of the constant danger and worry, and ever since he had spent his days mostly alone. Sure, Jarvis could keep pretty good company when Tony wanted him to, but talking to a computer in the ceiling just wasn't the same.

He lay comfortably on his bed, flipping between watching late night, pointless dramas on TV and surveying Loki in his room via Jarvis's cameras. His uninvited guest had seemed apologetic enough, but he was also the renowned God of Lies, and Tony wasn't about to leave him unattended. This man, Loki, adopted Prince of Asgard, had thrown him out a window. He had nearly destroyed New York City. He had brainwashed Clint. He had killed Phil Coulson. Even though Loki had been under Chitauri mind control, as the billionaire had just learned, Tony was still hesitant to forgive and forget.

On the giant plasma television screen, the bad acting and pointless plot sequences droned on. Tony sighed, frankly, he didn't care if some Amoura didn't get her one true love in time; he just wanted to sleep. And maybe get some alcohol.

Yeah, alcohol sounded good.

Tony pushed the covers back, ignoring Jarvis's parent-like scolding for getting up at two in the morning to drink. He had had a long day, ending in a rather surprising visit from the long lost villain of Asgard. He deserved a little something. The inticing call of getting drunk off his ass was enough for him to let his guard down slightly, and as he exited his room he commanded Jarvis to close all the holographic screens playing the footage of Loki in his room. The AI began to protest slightly, probably with a well placed argument that Tony didn't feel like hearing, before the billionaire cut him off.

"Jarvis, do what I say or I'll boot you off for a better model." Tony's voice held no more patience; he wanted his scotch and he wanted it now.

A reluctant "yes, sir" sounded around the room and, satisfied, Tony began towards the door. He turned back just in time to see Loki curled up in a small ball in the middle of his borrowed bed as the screens began to shut off. Content with what he saw, he muttered a low "see Jarv, he's fine. Everything's ok"; but a small part of him couldn't deny that he had really said that to reassure himself.

"Thor, my friend, your brother has only been gone for a few hours. No need to worry just yet." Fandral gracefully side stepped out of Thor's path, eyebrows raised. The future king had been pacing back and forth on the front balcony for the past hour. He would look over at the Bifröst every so often, hoping to see his brother returning. And every time he saw that, no, in fact, Loki had not come back yet, he would sigh sorrowfully and continue pacing.  
"Yes but what if something had happened in these few hours? He was sent to apologize, but what if his good intentions were not received well? What if he is being held captive by this friend Stark?" Here Thor's eyes widened dramatically, "or even worse! My dear brother has no real experience with Midgard! What if some terrible fate has befallen him? What if, as we speak, he is being tortured, or abused, or is lost?"

"Thor, I do believe it would best for you to go inside and sit for a while. Loki is fine, I assure you. He can take care of himself." He pushed the words 'and he's better off in Midgard than here, where he's constantly in everyone's hair' from his mind and instead opted to lay a hand on Thor's arm comfortingly. He chose his next words carefully.

"Loki is... repenting right now. It is only fair that he apologize, so let him do as he wishes. Besides, we all get a break from the God of Mischief for a while, I'm sure that's appreciated by most." As it happened to be, the last words were probably not the smartest to say. Thor wrenched his arm away, fury clouding his gaze.

"You would be best to remove yourself from my presence, Fandral. Do not slight my brother again, whether he is here to defend himself or not. Now be gone."  
The accused man nodded slowly, clearly confuse. He watched Thor for a few seconds with a scrutinizing eye before bowing slightly and taking his leave. Thor sighed. He leant an elbow upon the golden railing and swiped a hand down his face.

"You do not understand what it is to be in love."

Tony had to say, it felt amazing to sit in the bar in his tower, slowly getting hammered while listening to his favorite collection of songs. The sounds of classic rock blared through his custom, one of a kind speakers while he downed another glass of scotch. He pretended to savor the sight just outside his window, where hundreds of white lights glowed in the darkness, thinking with poorly hidden scorn how Pepper would have adored the current scenery.

A small gasp sounded from the doorway, and Tony pulled his head out from inside the liquor cabinet to see Loki standing shyly in the middle of the open doorway.  
"Whoah, Reindeer Games, I wake you or something? Didn't mean to. Or are you here to cause trouble? 'Cause in that case I have a suit at the ready."

Loki looked down ashamedly. "No, Man of Metal, I am not here for that. You did not wake me either. I- it's about time I return to Asgard. I do not mean to in convince you, I simply came to apologize. And Thor must be getting worried." Loki's voice was no longer proud and strong. It was quiet and humble, Tony noticed, and he didn't like it one bit.

"No, no. You're no trouble at all. I suppose I forgive you, so stay a while. No need to return to Asgard just yet. You don't seem like you want to, and besides I have a few questions for you. Drink?" He held up a bottle of vodka he had just fished from the cabinet and Loki flinched. Too many memories of last year, he supposed.

"If you would please." Loki raised his gaze from the dark floorboards ever so slightly to tip his head in appreciation before it returned it it's former position.

"Well then, get on over here." Tony made a "come here and sit down" motion with his hand, and Loki obediently followed. He sat in the chair two down from Tony's settling himself shyly into seat before curling back in on himself. Tony slide the glass before his guest, a question clearly written on his face.

"You look shorter. Less intimidating."

So not really a question. Loki sighed, his gaze flitting to the countertop. "I no longer have my magic. The Allfather took it from me on my return to Asgard." In reality, Tony was right. The tall stature the god had possessed was now a few inches shorter than Tony himself.

The billionaire hummed slightly in recognition before returning to the silence. They both awkwardly stared out the window, each trying to ignore the rapidly growing silence. Finally, Tony's voice, much more solemn and quiet than normal filled the space.

"Why'd you do it?" Loki opened his mouth to answer, but Tony shook his head and cut him off before he could speak. "No, sorry. Let me rephrase that. Why'd you let go? On the Bifröst, I mean. Thor told us about it. You just... fell, he said. Why?"

He turned to face his guest at the last word, and his heart cracked at what he saw written on Loki's face. Pure, unadulterated self loathing and sadness.  
"I-I realized, at that point, that I could not do what I wished. It had been my goal to prove to Father that I was worthy, that despite who my true parentage is I am more than a monster. And when he told me I could not do it, I have up inside. So I let go. Cowardly, I know, but I guess it didn't matter then." He stirred his drink nervously with a fingertip before continuing. "I was born a monster, I've always been a monster. I've been forgotten and alone my entire life, with the exception of Thor. And until the day Odin told me who I really am, I thought it was all imagined. I let go because I realized I can never overcome this. I will always be a monster." Loki finished his explanation in a whisper. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think i will return to my room." He got up stiffly from his seat, and Tony didn't miss the glitter of tears pooled in the god's eyes.

"Alright, good night then." Tony swallowed thickly, forcing back feelings he couldn't describe, and didn't care to name. Loki padded softly across the floor, and Tony found himself unconsciously beginning to speak again.

"And Loki?"

"Yes?" The man didn't look up from the floor but he stopped in the doorway, one hand against the molding.

"We create our own demons."

The only sound that followed was Loki's footsteps as he left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors note: Alright so I've noticed that apparently I seem to get the best ideas for this story at night. Seriously, every chapter I've finished has been written around 10-11 o'clock at night. Look who takes after Tony Stark. Also, I apologize for the long wait between updates this time. With the holidays and spending time with my family, I've been way too busy to be able to write much. And let's all clap for this chapter, coming in as the longest one I've written so far at 5 pages long! Thanks for reading and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of the characters.**

**Review Response:  
Cristina Reid: oh they will, soon :)**

"Heimdal!" A rather agitated Thor strode across the bridge to the gatekeeper, "I require your assistance!"

"Yes, my lord?"

The man prepared himself to gaze upon Thor's lady friend Jane, as that was the god's usual business in coming to visit him, but he was rather surprised by Thor's next request.

"Set your gaze upon my brother, Loki. Tell me how he fairs in Midgard."  
Heimdall froze for a second; that Thor, crown prince and soon-to-be king of Asgard, would wish to view the life of his lowly, exiled adopted brother shocked the guardian. To himself, and most others in Asgard, Loki's recent vacation to Midgard had been a breath of fresh air. The trickster god was gone, and Asgard could return to a normality it had not seen in quite some time. But no matter his thoughts pertaining to the trickster, he knew disobeying the prince would not be a wise choice. Reluctantly, he nodded in conformation before setting his gaze on Midgard, zeroing in on the ebony haired prince. He closed his eyes, forcing his mind to speed up and find the man faster, as he could plainly see Thor getting restless.

"Your brother fairs well, my lord." Heimdalls eyes opened slowly and he threw a half smile in Thor's direction. "He resides in New York City, in the home of Anthony Stark. He appears to be happy; currently he and his host are enjoying time together in the tower, watching Midgardian films."

A dark look that spelled jealously spread over Thor's face as Tony's name was mentioned. He felt slightly foolish inside, for Loki had accomplished what he wanted (or so Thor assumed, considering Tony would be extremely unlikely to open his house to the trickster unless they had somehow made amends in their relationship), and therefore would be returning home quickly. His brother would once again be happy, and then he and Thor could finally be what the older had been pining for: a couple. A large grin spread across his face at that word- yes, when Loki returned he and his brother would be united as lovers; he could see it now. He thanked Heimdall gleefully before turning, mounting his horse, and galloping away down the Rainbow Bridge towards the palace. More and more of his imagined future with Loki spun itself into existent as he rode, and it was all he could do not to turn around and demand Heimdall to send his brother back to Asgard. Let Loki return on his own, he thought; after all, the happier his little brother was, the more likely he'd agree to what Thor had begun to plan.

If Tony was one to gloat- which, admittedly, he was- he would have to give himself a pat on the shoulder for what he'd accomplished today. Ever since Loki's little morning confession, which had happened two days ago, the god had been rather timid and quiet. Tony had thought, while laying in bed, of asking Loki why he did not just return to Asgard. He seemed nervous and out of place in the modern Midgardian tower, and the billionaire would have figured he'd be more relieved to return to his home. But just as quickly he remembered what Thor had said a year earlier; that Loki would be facing Asgardian justice. So perhaps the man did not return because, no matter how displaced and awkward he felt, being on Midgard with his former enemy was better than punishment by a fake father.

In the past two days, Tony had also noticed how Loki seemed to skirt around his host whenever he could. He would talk, but only when Tony talked first. He would join Tony in whatever activity he was been doing, but only when he was persuaded to. And just recently, he had seen Loki approach the lab he was working in, Stark designed tablet in hand and a proud smile on his face, before he had stopped, nervously peeked into the glass and then walked away visibly deflated. The billionaire didn't especially like seeing the once cocky villain seem so sad; which had lead him to his brilliant-if he did say so himself- idea.

He had been sitting on the couch, watching some hit movie on television. The sound was nearly silent, and he would glance around at the entrance to the room every few minutes. His plan of attack was to catch Loki as he came to the kitchen for a snack, as he did every night (he couldn't deny that having Jarvis watch his guest was useful) and sucker Loki into spending some quality time with him. A strange tingly feeling burst in his chest whenever he thought of Loki's entrance. The first time it had happened, he'd blamed the Arc Reactor. But after a thorough investigation, or as thorough as he could get without moving from his spot, he concluded it wasn't his "heart" but, in fact, his body. He shook his head, as if scolding himself, before looking to the door again, only to feel the same sensation.

Okay, so as much as he would like to deny it, maybe he liked Loki.

'But I can't help it!' He thought desperately. 'How could I not? He's so lonely and sad; he just needs someone to cuddle him and tell him he's love. And he's pretty hot, got a nice ass. And a nice face, and a nice everything...'

He sighed and slumped his cheek into his hand. He had it bad for the prince. His inner thoughts had caused him to miss what he had been waiting all this time for, and it was only when he heard the scrape of the doughnut box on the counter opening that he realized who he was sharing the room with. He opened his mouth to speak but froze, stuck somewhere between being nervous and not knowing what to say. He scoffed internally. Him, Tony Stark, not knowing what to say! He opened his mouth again, determined, and spoke blindly.

"Hey, Reindeer Games, come join me."

Loki froze, a glazed doughnut half way to his mouth. His wide green eyes darted nervously from Tony to the doughnut and back again before his face flushed red and he dropped the pastery in embarrassment.

"I mean it. Only thing on is this boring movie. I could use some company."  
Loki glanced down nervously before making a sound of conformation. He went to drop the doughnut back into the box, but Tony stopped him.

"No, no, keep the doughnut. And bring me one too will you? I'm starving."

His guest nodded slowly before reaching back in to take out a chocolate frosted conncoction. He approached the man on the couch slowly, and as he did Tony patted the spot beside him. The only sound was that of bare feet and breathing, but to Tony it was deafening. Here he was, in the same room as the man who had thrown him out a window, with his emotions having done a total 360 from that day. The man in green was close enough now that Tony outstretched his hand. In a sly, purposeful move, Tony brushed their fingers together and muttered a "thank you" in what he hoped was a slightly seductive voice. He honestly didn't know what was happening. Him, the billionaire playboy, forgetting what he considered to be the most basic of his instincts from the touch of this mans silky smooth hand.

The only excuse he had to justify this was that Loki was a god, after all, and maybe being naturally stunning was one of his powers.

His mind snapped back to the present as Loki stiffly lowered his body into the spot beside Tony. His heart dropped as the god curled into himself immediately after getting comfortable; he lowered his head shyly and twisted the doughnut nervously in between his fingers, looking anywhere but at Tonys imploring eyes.  
"Don't be nervous Loke, it's just me and you. I'm not going to do anything to you, don't worry."

Loki didn't look up, and Tony sighed unhappily. The man beside him flinched slightly and he internally scolded himself for frightening the skittish god.

"Sorry." He trailed off awkwardly as Loki shrugged nervously, spinning the doughnut faster in his fingers and accidentally breaking it in half. "But listen Lokes. I'm serious; nothing's going to happen to you while you're here. Would I have let someone I planned to destroy into my house?" He waited for the shake of the head from the other before he continued. "So come on, relax and let's watch some tv."

It took Tony all of an hour to realize that neither of them were watching the movie. He was too busy swimming through his mind, playing out scenes that could go down between himself and Loki, and analyzing his feelings. Loki, on the other hand, just looked extremely bored. He scrutinized everything in the room in an obvious attempt to not look too fidgety.

"Seems like you're not too interested either?"

Loki looked up, startled, and spoke for the first time that night. His lips curled in mild disgust, "I will never understand your Midgardian films. Why must they always revolve around hopeless romance and happy endings? Not everything turns out like that you know."

Tony could detect the bitter undertone; a warning signal in his brain told him it had little to do with the movie and lots to do with the tricksters own personal life. He snatched up the remote rather nimbly, cheery smile plastered on his face, and began flipping through the channels. He would stop and look over at Loki occasionally, silently asking if he would like to watch what was being aired. Every attempt was met with a shake of the head from the now seemingly bolder god.

When the channels had finished, and he'd looped back to the movie they'd begin with, Tony shut the television off and turned to Loki.

"Well since there's nothing on, let's just talk."

"A-alright." The man seemed to choke on the first letter, and he visibly curled back up inside himself again at the mention of talking to Tony.

Said billionaire, who had hoped that this time Loki would start the conversation, grappled blindly in his thoughts for something to say as an awkward silence ensued. Then, before he even realized the voice filling the space belonged to him, Tony was spitting something out about how beautiful Loki was.

The recipient of the compliment blushed and lowered his head before replying in a sad whisper. "No ones ever said that to me before." He raised his head a fraction and looked at the older man through his lashes. "Do you, do you mean that? What you said?"

This time it was Tony who stuttered. "Well of course! I mean, look at you, you have eyes to die for, gorgeous black hair- how do you get it to stay like that, by the way?- and a killer body. How anyone with working eyes hasn't noticed this and told you before I have is a miracle."

Though his mind was screaming at him to stop, a part of him realized this is what he'd always wanted to say. That he truly believed every single word he'd just spoken and more.

"You- you think_ I'm beautiful_..." A hesitant smile lit up Loki's face and he lifted his hands to his chest, raising his head up to look at Tony.

"Yes, Loki, yes I do."

And then Tony was leaning in, capturing the gods chin in his hand and tilting his face ever closer. They stared into each others eyes for a split second, Loki's lowered in a happy daze, Tonys bold and seeking, before he ghosted a finger over the pale, parted lips of his guest. Loki was watching him, knowing what was most likely about to happen but not entire knowing of how to go about it. And then they were both leaning, leaning, leaning in...


End file.
